A War of Sand and Shadows
by SpartAl412
Summary: During a war against the Forces of Chaos, a Lord General and Governor Militant of the Imperial Guard accidentally gets caught in the foul spell of a heretic Sorcerer. He then finds himself trapped in another world and another time, the Lord General will find himself fighting in a campaign which will greatly affect the balance of the Global Powers and a war for Man's own survival.
1. Chapter 1

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**(WARNING: THIS STORY CAN POTENTIALLY BE OFFENSIVE IF YOU ARE FROM THE U.S.)**

**This is a story I honestly wrote as a joke and it is with trepidation that I post this. As such, whenever it gets updated, it will not be anytime soon for it is at the bottom of my priority list for stories. And if you do get offended by this story, well you were warned.**

* * *

'For the Emperor, Men! For the Emperor!' roared Governor Militant Suleiman of Bel-Sabar Prime as he released the trigger of his Plasma Gun. He felt the thrum of its power cell as it unleashed a large ball of super heated gas that swiftly flew towards a Chaos Space Marine. The black armoured Traitor Space Marine, along with two more of its heretical comrades were vaporized by the bright explosion. Dropping his gun for its power cell was now empty; he drew his Powered Shamshir which activated with a field of coruscating, azure energy.

Roaring a prayer to the Emperor, he watched as several bolters rounds exploded harmlessly against the energy field created by his Rosarius. Closing the gap between himself and the Chaos Space Marines, he thrust his power weapon into the breastplate of one of the traitors and the blade easily slid through the ceramite plates. The Chaos Marine roared in pain and he uselessly bashed against the energy shield which still protected the Governor and with a swift flick of his wrist Suleiman tore the blade out which caused the mutated entrails of the traitor to spill out.

For more than a month now, the Forces of Chaos had dared to assault his new homeworld. For more than a month, the brave men and women of the Bel-Sabaran Janissaries fought and bled, fighting the traitors just as they had for thirty years. For thirty long, bloody years since the regiment's founding they had faced against all manners of xenos, heretics and daemons.

For over sixty solar years, Suleiman who was now ninety three solar years had served the Imperium as a General and in the last ten years, as a Lord General. It was upon this world of Bel-Sabar Prime that his regiment was gifted with the Right of Settlement.

For five years now, Suleiman had ruled this world with fair and even judgment and the people who had come from Tallarn had prospered. Then these heretics came, wanting to take it from him and it was something that the Governor Militant would never allow. Beheading another Chaos Space Marine with his sword, he saw an Aspiring Champion raise his chain-axe in proclamation for a duel. The Governor laughed and pointed his left index finger at the Champion and in a brief moment, the Javidan, the Honour Guard of the Governor focused the fire of their guns upon the Champion.

As the Aspiring Champion fell, the Governor was already upon the closest of the heretics. He hacked and slashed with wild abandon as he shouted insults and curses at the traitors. Eventually the Traitors began to withdraw from the relentless assault of the Janissaries.

'Are you all right sir?' asked Colonel Fadia of his personal guard. Looking to her scarred but still rather pretty face which was damaged on the upper left side which had a bionic augmentation over where her left eye had once been. Her black hair had been covered by a turban of cream colour like the rest of the men and women of his regiment.

'I am all right Colonel' the Governor said with a professional tone. He had known Fadia's father well for he had been a good man who made the ultimate sacrifice in securing victory over this world for the Imperium from the Necron Legions that once inhabited. 'How are the men?' the Governor asked trying to keep the concern out of his voice.

'Minimal casualties, sir!' the Colonel said with a salute. Good, the Governor thought as he trusted the Colonel's judgment. Already they were pushing deep into the Chaos territory, if what their scouts said was true, then the Chaos main base would not be far ahead. He swore to the Emperor that the war for this world would end today.

* * *

Zacharius the Infernal cursed as he saw another squad was wiped out on the holo-projection in front of him. That fool Abaddon had sent them on a suicide mission and now the Sorcerer was forced into a dilemma. Either he escape back into the Eye of Terror where the Warmaster would be waiting to punish him for failure, or he would have to continue fighting these Guardsmen who were better armed and better trained than he had expected.

He cursed again and knew it was all the fault of those damn Eldar Corsairs! He had recently led a warband of his Black Legion brethren against the Ultramarine world Serris Prime to retrieve an ancient daemonic artifact. It had all gone so well, they slaughtered the whelps of Gulliman that used the planet for training and they even gotten their hands on the artifact, then those Eldar in armour of gold and black helmets ambushed them.

Zacahrius himself had lost his left hand to the xeno prince who wore the most outlandishly extravagant suite of armour he had ever seen. The xeno prince then laughed at the sorcerer and disengaged along with his minions for the Black Legion force had nearly been decimated. The xenos then disappeared into their webway and the sorcerer who barely had any troops left was forced to report his failure to Abaddon. He had been surprised when the Warmaster had offered him a chance at redemption; he should have know it would be too good to be true.

The Sorcerer then realized that he had a third option, reaching for a satchel on the side of his armored waist, he pulled out a scroll. The scroll contained the incantation of a spell which would allow him to escape into a warp, but there would be a price he would have to pay a heavy personal price. It was not as if he had anything to lose now, considering how many daemonic pacts he had made in the past.

Yes… he thought, he would use this scroll to escape if he needed to. For now though, he had a battle to fight.

* * *

Squeezing the trigger of his newly acquired Meltagun, he watched in satisfaction as another Chaos Space Marine was appropriately reduced to molten slag. Having given his Rosarius time to recharge its power, it was quite easy to walk right into the corridors of the Chaos Headquarters and blast every Traitor that got in his way. He would have felt bad for them if they were xenos or rebels for he always thought of himself as a sporting man, but for Chaos followers, it was just so delicious to crush the heretics like bugs.

The Chaos Headquarters was located in a former Necron Tomb Complex which the Tech Priests in his regiment had heavily insisted that they preserve after the fighting with the Necrons. He was in no place to argue at the time, because the lead Magos at the time had Suleiman's command squad surrounded by combat servitors. The only reason why Suleiman and his command squad were allowed to leave alive was because the lead Magos had owed his own life to the Governor Militant. He found the mutilated body of the Magos in the early days of this war and he was conflicted on what he should feel for the man who had once been a close ally but had later turned to treachery.

Arriving at a heavy set of metallic double doors, the Governor ordered for demolition charges to be set. Two sappers he recognized as corporals Rashim and Salim began setting krak charges upon the door. When they had finished, the Governor ordered for his troops to get clear and have smoke grenades hurled forward. Ten tense seconds after being set, the doors were obliterated in fire, the heat of which washed over the Guardsmen who threw a series of smoke grenades towards the entrance.

Sure enough, bolter rounds began flying through the entrance as the Governor thought. The miniature rockets exploded harmlessly against the energy field of his now refreshed Rosarius. Roaring the Emperor's name, Suleiman charged forwards with a melta gun in his left hand and his sword in his right.

He saw the area ahead was a command room of sorts, he saw four Chaos Marines armed with two handed maces which were wreathed with pinkish power fields. Behind a table which created a holo-projection of the planet, there stood the enemy leader, a Chaos Sorcerer!

The Sorcerer began to hiss blasphemous words of power and bolts of warp energy flew towards the Governor. The magic missiles exploded against the energy field of the Rosarius which now began to flicker. By the Emperor! he thought, that attack must have been powerful for his shield had been able to withstand even Necron gauss fire. Ordering his troops to attack, the Janissaries charged in with melta guns, plasma weapons and flamers.

The Chaos Space Marine honour guard certainly was fearsome, but even with their advanced power armour, they could not withstand against the punishing volley of plasma, melta and gouts of chemical fire that rained upon them. Ignoring the Chaos Marines, the Governor charged towards the Sorcerer who held out a scroll and he could hear foul words being spoken from the Sorcerer. Using his momentum, the Governor swiftly climbed upon the table and he vaulted towards the Sorcerer.

In a brief moment, a disc of azure light appeared behind the Sorcerer, countless chains burst out as swift as vipers as they wrapped around the Sorcerer. Suleiman's sword plunged into the Sorcerer's chest, he then saw several more chains burst out from the azure disc and they began to wrap tightly around the Governor.

'Governor!' shouted Fadia with alarm, the guardsmen began firing at the portal and soon more chains began flying out. One link of chains wrapped around a guardsman's lasrifle while another wrapped around another man, guardsmen armed with chain blades and power weapons quickly cut their closest comrades free while others whose weapons were snared simply let go. Several of the Javidan tried to help the Governor, but the old man quickly ordered them to stay put.

As the General struggled against the chains, he gave one last looked to his troops before he was swept off of his feet and into the Azure Gate.

* * *

Tchar'makai sat crossed legged upon the stone floor of ever shifting colours in his personal library. The Changer of Ways was contented for the moment as his minions continued to re-arrange the countless books in patterns he thought was pleasing. Feeling a strange shift in the Warp, he saw another portal open and two small mortal creatures were now lying down upon his floor.

Annoyed at the intrusion once more, he cursed having taught mortal sorcerers how to use those scrolls of spiritual escape. This had been the sixtieth time he had been disturbed and it just infuriated him. Rolling his eyes, he noted one was a big black armored human with a horned helmet while the other one was smaller human wearing a dark green long coat and his head was covered in a turban. Quite obviously the former was the one who read the scroll while the latter was once again some fool at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Not caring much about the latter human, he waved his hand and summoned a portal which hurled chains around the human. It would drag him to some other place in some other time the Daemon could hardly care about; the sorcerer on the other hand at least would provide the Daemon with a fine snack.

* * *

General Carville sat upon his command chair as he monitored the battlefield control network. He was proud that his troops were now mopping up the remaining GLA forces in the city. For two weeks the fighting had been fierce with casualties thankfully light for his troops, there was nothing in this world that could not be stopped with the perfect combination of discipline, training and good old firepower from the US of A.

Reaching for a cup which rested upon arm of his seat, he inhaled the aromatic smell of the coffee and he began to sip it. If there was one thing these towel heads were good at he thought, was that they at least knew how to make good coffee, shame that the same could not be said for the people themselves.

* * *

Breathing heavily as he ran, Karim kicked down the door to the apartment and he looked about frantically. Seeing that it was clear, he looked back to the rest of his Rebel squad and told them it was clear. Quickly running in, he was followed by four other men, three of whom were forced to limp as they had been wounded in that last shoot out with the Rangers.

'What do we do?' asked Hassan frantically; his voice was close to panicking.

'I don't know!' Karim replied. He had managed to gun down a three American Missile Defenders and thus had earned a promotion; having gunned down three men was not exactly enough to make him a leader. Their squad's sergeant, Abdul had been gunned like a common dog by an American Humvee.

They were tired and they were scared, they needed a place to regroup but their base had been destroyed and they had received no further orders. It was likely that the general was now dead or captured by the Americans. The apartment complex they were in was a single story, square shaped structure with the central area left an open aired plaza with entryways in and out on the north, south, east and west side. Closing the apartment door the Rebels pushed furniture in front of the door to help secure it.

Karim looked out of the small window which gave a view into the plaza, he cursed and saw five men in dessert camo suites. Rangers! He thought as he put his head down and he prayed that they did not see him.

* * *

Sergeant Gibson raised his assault rifle to the level of his eyes, his men spread out as they cautiously scanned the area for the Rebels they were pursuing. 'See anything?' asked the sergeant

'Nothing sir' replied Private Velazquez

'Search and Destroy' ordered Gibson and the men replied with a quiet 'hooah'. The squad of Rangers began searching the apartment complex, it was thankful that all or at the least most of the civilians in the area had vacated when the fighting started. Conrad brought up a battering ram, same as the ones used by SWAT teams. With a strong thrust he broke down the door and the Rangers swept the room, finding that it was clear; they disengaged and continued their search.

After checking their fifth room there were only two left to check. Ordering his men to get ready because statistically speaking it was definitely now either this one or the next room where the Rebels were hiding. The hairs on the back of his neck suddenly stood and gooseflesh began to appear on his skin, the air suddenly became cold and he thought he could hear whisperings at the edge of his hearing.

Damn heat must be getting to me Gibson thought. He looked to his men who looked a bit disturbed as well. 'Do you feel that?' asked Velazquez in a very unsure tone. Before Gibson could reply he saw a bright flash of azure light from room inside. Quickly ordering Conrad to break the door down, the man shouted in confirmation and he slammed the head of the ram into the door.

With a loud splintering of wood, the five rangers advanced into apartment room. Like all the other rooms, this one had clearly been ransacked with no furniture or any valuables left, thus leaving it bare. Lying face down upon the ceramic tiled floor of the apartment was a large man in a dark green long coat and a cream colored turban. Oddly enough the man was wearing shoulder pads with an insignia of what looked to be a bird with two heads. Gibson quickly noted that there were a number of strange looking guns around the man, was he an arms dealer?

The man groaned and tried to get up, Gibson's curiosity quickly faded and he shouted 'Keep your head on the ground and put your hands behind your head!' The man groaned and lifted his head up; Gibson saw it was a scar faced Arabic looking man with an impressive moustache. The man looked dazed and confused as if someone had hit him over the head. Even if the man could understand English, it looked as if he were in no position to fight back.

Ordering Conrad to keep an eye on the man, Conrad cautiously moved to the man, for all they knew he had a suicide vest on. The man then rolled over upon his back and to Gibson's surprise the man was wearing a bronze piece of metal armor over his chest, like a breast plate used by Spanish Conquistadors. The breastplate though was designed with the same two headed bird symbol and underneath it were words written in what looked to be Latin. Gibson ordered Conrad to keep an eye on the man while they searched the rest of the apartment.

Opening the door which led into a bathroom, Gibson began hearing voices from the room where they found the strange man. 'Keep you hands where I can see them!' shouted Conrad's voice.

'Get that gun out of my face!' came a highly accented and unfamiliar voice which likely belonged to the strange man.

'Shut the fuck up!' Conrad shouted again. Gibson quietly swore and knew he would have to get back there, the previous week there had been a close call with Conrad where he had almost lost his temper on some POWs and had nearly killed them. While Gibson hardly cared if they killed these towel-headed bastards who were trying to kill them as well, he knew that they would all be in a lot of trouble if POWs were killed in their base.

Turning around and heading back to the room with the entrance to the apartment, Gibson's eyes widened in shock as he saw a sword impaled through Conrad's chest. Raising his rifle and opening fire on full auto, he saw several flashes of light appear and the man who stabbed Conrad was still alive. The old man reacted with surprising agility, he swiftly pulled out a pistol and pointed it at Gibson.

Loudly swearing, Gibson quickly went to cover behind wall next him. He barely dodged a red beam of light which seared a small section of the wall across him. Was that a laser!? He thought with alarm; how the fuck did that man have a laser gun! As far as he knew, only the men under General Townes had access to laser weapons, even then they had been unable to create small arms versions.

Hearing another staccato of fire, he looked to see Velazquez opening fire at the man, and just as with Gibson's fire those flashes of light appeared again. As impossible as it seemed, Gibson had seen enough science fiction films and video games to realize the man had a force field of some kind. The old man quickly shot Velazquez in the head which exploded in a shower of meat and bone before quickly getting up to his feet.

As the man got up, Paterson and Frankie began unloading their guns upon the man. The man then shot Paterson in the chest which exploded with blood from his back. The man then rushed Frankie who continued to fire but none of his shots got through the shield and soon was impaled through the throat by the man's sword. Ripping the sword out from the side Frankie's neck, his head flopped and dangled from a piece of torn flesh and meat as blood spurted out of the opening, the man then rushed towards Gibson's position and he knew that he needed to get out.

Gibson only managed to get a few steps ahead before he felt a sudden sense of weightlessness and coldness. His vision began to spin and he tried to breathe but he could not speak. Horror crept in as he struck the floor and began to roll about, as darkness began to consume him, Gibson saw his body with his head cleanly severed from the neck.

* * *

Grunting with displeasure at the foolishness of those men, Governor Suleiman propped his right shoulder by the wall next to him as he felt a moment of nausea. By the Emperor what happened? He was sure that he had been dragged into some nightmarish place then he was at that other place which was just as bad but at least it sort of looked like a library. Then he saw that Great Daemon, he was quickly then dragged into another azure disc of light and he woke up to see men pointing autoguns at his face.

The men he had just fought seemed to be wearing uniforms which were somewhat similar to the standard Cadian pattern outfits which were common across the Imperium, yet none of them had any carapace plates on the them, just flack jackets of a desert camouflage pattern. Shaking his head and deciding that he just needed to walk off his nausea he surveyed the area and found it to be clear.

He heard the sounds of distant gunfire and guessed that there must be a battle going on. He was a bit surprised to find a number of Imperial guns lying on the floor, likely they had been taken along with when he had been pulled through that warp gate. Knowing that he could not carry it all, he decided that perhaps he should take two now and come back for the rest later.

Picking up a laser rifle which he checked, he was glad that it still had full ammo, he then picked up a plasma gun and was pleased that the energy meter on the side of it indicated that it was still good as well. Walking outside of the room and into the bright light, his eyes were momentarily blinded by this planet's yellow sun, he could smell the smoke and burnt fyceline in the air.

Walking towards what seemed to be a plaza, he heard the whooping sounds of something in the air, looking up he saw that it was some sort of long bodied VTOL flying machine which was propelled with giant rotor blades. A helicopter he believed was what people called such a machine Quickly moving to cover behind a pillar, he noted the design of it was quite similar to Tallarn's architecture. Waiting in cover, his hands tightly gripped the Plasma Gun which he wielded.

He heard the voice of a man shouting from above and several ropes began to dangle down with eight more men in camo pattern uniforms began rappelling from the helicopter. As their boots came into contact with the ground, the helicopter flew away to as the men began to spread out. Seeing several more of the camo-patterned men, he knew that talking was out of the question, not after he killed some of their comrades.

He would have to capture one of them alive and interrogate the information out of him. Squeezing the trigger of his plasma gun, he allowed it to charge up for a few second before he emerged from cover and pointed the gun at them. The men began opening fire with their autoguns towards Suleiman; their weak weapons were nothing against a shield which could withstand bolter fire.

Releasing the trigger he watched as a miniature star shot out from the gun and it exploded among the soldiers. Many of them were immediately vaporized with those caught at the edge only partly so, good he thought, he had two prisoners to interrogate. As he advanced towards one of the two injured men he heard the creak of a door to his left, pointing his plasma gun at the location of the sound he saw it slightly open to reveal black skinned many wearing a turban like his and a somewhat, military-like uniform.

'Don shoot!' the man said in a frightened voice as he spoke in an archaic version of the Tallarn language

Keeping his Plasma Gun trained at them, Suleiman shouted back in the same language 'Answer my questions and I wont'

'Okay! okay!' the man responded frantically

'First of all where are we? What planet is this?' Suleiman asked. The man at the door gave him a strange look as if he were crazy.

'This… this is Mogadishu in Somalia' the man replied. Suleiman had never heard of a planet called Somalia, he would need to find the nearest Imperial garrison and make arrangements for a pick up. 'This is Earth' the man then suddenly said. Realization struck Suleiman, Earth? Holy Terra? He heard that Terra was a Hive World, could it be that he just got dropped off on some area with heavy gangland warfare? Impossible he realized, it was just impossible for those men he had killed looked like professional soldiers.

'You lie!' Roared Suleiman 'this can't possibly be Earth!'

'It… it is sir!' the man then insisted 'I swear I am telling the truth!' Hearing the sound of another of those helicopters, Suleiman saw that this was now a different one, it was smaller and he could see it was equipped with guns.

'Get to cover!' the man at the door shouted. The helicopter then began firing a volley of solid rounds at the Suleiman which impacted against his shield, he then raised his Plasma Gun and charged it up again. When he then released his finger from the trigger, he fired another plasma shot which struck the under section of the helicopter and it exploded in mid air. As its wreckage quickly fell downwards upon the soldiers he had killed, including the ones who had been injured, he ran towards the man at the door who backed away further into the room.

Stepping through the door way, he soon found himself surrounded by five men pointing guns at him. He could clearly see that each of them were terrified of him. 'Put those guns down now' Suleiman then said in a commanding and threatening tone. The men around him reluctantly lowered their weapons and cautiously they looked to the black skinned man of whom he guessed was their leader.

'Now tell me again, where am I?' calmly asked Suleiman but his tone, he made it clear that he was in no mood for playing around…


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Did lots of edits to the previous chapter as well.**

* * *

'What the sam-hill!?' sputtered General Carville as he saw through the screen of the battlefield control network, the destruction of a Commanche as well as an entire squad of Rangers being wiped out.

Having recorded what had happened, he re-winded back to the brief engagement which his men had fought and he paused it right before everything went to helll. The General saw the image of an older, Arabic man dressed in an odd looking uniform with a turban covering his head and in the picture, the old Arab was carrying a gun which was of a design he had never seen before. It was a large gun that had what appeared to be a blue glowing power cell upon the upper part of the barrel and from it, the old Arab fired a ball of pure energy that destroyed the Rangers first before the Commanche.

Had the GLA somehow managed to steal some prototype weapon from General Townes? It was possible but highly unlikely. Whatever was the case, the General decided that he would get to the bottom of it with his own troops. Ordering several infantry squads to board Humvees with Scout Drones attached, General Carville also ordered his men to at least try to take prisoners if they could.

* * *

'I swear to Allah that I am telling the truth sir!' pleaded the black skinned man and Governor Militant Suleiman gave him a hard, studious look to see if he was lying and as hard as it was to believe, he felt confident that the man was being sincere.

'Now tell me then, who are you fellows and who were those men I just fought' said the Imperial Governor in a steely tone and once more, the men around him gave confused looks towards Suleiman.

'I am Karim and we are part of the Global Liberation Army or the GLA for short' tensely answered the black skinned man who then continued with a measure of spite in his voice 'those men you had fought are the Imperialistic dogs of the United States of America.'

'Imperialist?' questioned the Governor Militant with a mixture of hope and worry at the possible idea that he had just killed fellow soldiers of the Imperial Guard and was now aiding some secessionist, rebel scum.

'Yes!' replied the man named Karim 'they try to force their capitalistic, democratic views on everyone while serving their own selfish greed.'

'Democracy?' spat Suleiman with disdain for on multiple occasions in the past, he had put down rebellions on planets where people claimed to be fighting for treasonous and heretical ideologies with this Democracy being part of it. Supreme power lay in the Emperor and the Emperor alone, not some antiquated and naive idea that it belongs to the people.

'For years we have been fighting against the Imperialistic American dogs who are nothing more than tyrants who hide behind a façade as heroes' said Karim.

'Well it seems that your war is mine as well' growled Suleiman with resignation for due to circumstances, he doubted that these Americans would be forgiving of him killing a number of their troops. 'Do you men have a commanding officer I can speak to?' then asked the former Lord General.

'We do not' said another man as he looked down to the floor 'our base was destroyed and our General is dead, the rest of our forces are likely scattered around the city.'

'Then we will have to find them!' announced Suleiman 'you men follow me, I have some weapons that can help us.'

'But sir-' sputtered another of the GLA men but one hard look from the Governor Militant, the kind Commissars give to guardsmen who might even be thinking of retreating was enough to keep the man in line. 'I will take point, now follow me!' commanded the Governor Militant and the GLA soldiers obeyed as they accompanied him outside of the room with Autoguns in hand.

When the Governor Militant stepped out, he immediately saw the reject of the helicopter still within the open plaza, the bodies of the American soldiers he had slain were now unrecognizable as bits of metal had rained down upon them. Looking left and right to see if the coast was clear, Suleiman then led the GLA soldiers to the room where he had first been attacked. He noted the surprised looks of the GLA soldiers as they saw the bodies of the Americans and the Governor Militant directed them to the Imperial Weapons which had somehow ended up with him.

The GLA soldiers picked up the guns and studied them for a moment, the Governor Militant doubted that they had the wits to use such blessed weapons. Ordering them to carry the guns, the soldiers obeyed and placed the straps of the guns over their shoulders. Suleiman then ordered them again to follow him outside.

If they were going to rally several scattered troops thought the General, then they would need something like a vox-unit to coordinate.

'Do any of you men have a Vox-Caster or a radio I can use?' asked the General and they looked to one another with some embarrassment before shaking their heads or shrugging. 'By the Emperor' muttered Suleiman with disdain before he got the idea of perhaps trying to claim some from the enemy.

'I think Abdul had one' suddenly said one of the soldiers and all the others looked to him. 'Our previous and late sergeant' clarified the man.

'All right good, where did your sergeant fall?' asked Suleiman.

'Not far from here sir' replied Karim 'but we must be careful, the Americans have control of the streets and the air.'

'Then we will have to do it quietly' said the Governor Militant 'you mean stick to the shadows as much as possible, if we run into more of these Americans, then leave them to me.'

'One Path to Freedom' responded the GLA soldiers who at least seemed to have some degree of professional training.

* * *

Riding in the passenger section of a Humvee Private Paul Johnson looked out the window of the vehicle with his M249 SAW sticking out of the firing port. By orders of General Carville, he had loaded a flash-bang into the underslung, M203 grenade launcher. Perfect weapon for knocking them towel headed A-rabs out from fortified positions as well as putting down crowds of angry mobs.

From what he had heard, some of their guys got killed by the towel heads with some new weapons and the General wanted to them find whoever was responsible and bring them in. If it were up to him though, Paul would have the bastard shot for nobody fucks with United States and gets away with it. Hopefully when they captured the guy responsible they would send the fucker to Guantanamo for a cock meat sandwich.

The Humvee passed through the streets unhindered and Paul saw some of their other guys patrolling the streets and waving at them with some even standing guard over enemy POWs. They continued to drive through the streets and into an alleyway that was big enough for the Humvees to pass, judging by the look of some of the building that now surrounded them, they must have been in some shithole of a slum. Fucking towel head thought the Ranger again as he reached for a cigarette in one of his pouches before a sudden beeping sound came from the driver seat.

'Drone has picked up tangos' announced the driver and he heard the radio messages from the guys in the Humvees who also reported in the same thing. Briefly glancing to the front window of the Humvee, Paul saw an old Arabic man wearing what looked like a bronzed medieval breastplate with pauldrons standing in their way and in the man's hands was a large gun that glowed brightly.

Before Private Paul Johnson knew it, General Suleiman fired a charged up Plasma shot that obliterated the Humvee in a single shot. All five of the infantry men inside were instantly vaporized along with the driver and gunner as the drone crashed into a nearby building.

* * *

Watching as the light American ground vehicle exploded from the Plasma Shot, Suleiman rushed forth with his weapon still in hand and he shouted 'For the Emperor!' before another vehicle from behind slammed into the one at the front. 'You, soldier!' barked the Governor Militant towards one of the GLA men and a dark brown skinned man who had introduced himself as Hassan looked to Suleiman with an attentive look while the other men had taken cover within the building around them. 'Take my weapon' ordered the Lord General as he tossed the Plasma Gun to the man and the soldier practically dropped his Autogun before catching the Plasma weapon.

Disgraceful thought Suleiman with disdain for if it were one of his Janissaries, the soldier would have either shouldered his gun and caught it with both hands or be able to catch it with one hand while still holding on to his Lasrifle. Turning his attention towards the American convoy, Suleiman adjusted his turban and tightened the part of the cloth around his mouth so that it would cover it before drawing his Powered Shamshir and a Laspistol. With a loud ululating warcry that was traditionally used by warriors of the world of his birth, Tallarn, he then charged headlong into the smoke with his Rosarius still protecting him.

He passed through the eye-stinging smoke caused by the ruined vehicle and when he emerged from it, he came face to face with a white skinned American soldier who had disembarked from his vehicle and aimed an autogun directly at his face. With a swift thrust, Suleiman gutted the American in the stomach, its power field caused the blade to pierce the man's armor and flesh as if it were air and blood spat out from the soldier's mouth as he doubled back from the strike. Using the unfortunate soldier as a human shield, Suleiman swiftly aimed his laspistol to towards the American soldier behind the one he stabbed and shot the man directly in the face.

The second American soldier's head exploded in a shower of cooked meat and bone as bits of it splattered against the Governor Militant and the other man behind him. Gunshots rang out from behind Suleiman as the GLA soldiers opened fire and the Americans returned fire with a mix of bullets and the thump thump of grenade launchers. None of the Americans shot at him though for they likely were afraid of hitting the man Suleiman had gutted and it gave the Governor Militant an idea.

Quickly powering down his sword, Suleiman then began to push forward with the American soldier he stabbed still very much alive and in great agony. The Governor Militant then began firing his laspistol at the enemy soldiers who desperately tried to get a clear shot at him but he saw the bright flashes of energy as his Rosarius protected him from a hail of gunfire from the light vehicle to his left. Reactivating his power weapon, the General decided to drop his plan and he kicked the American off of his sword swinging his sword in a backhanded slash towards the light vehicle.

Suleiman was rewarded with a scream of pain as his power blade which could cut through the power armour of a Space Marine, sliced through door of the vehicle and it severed the left arm of the driver before cleaving the man in the stomach. The Gunner continued to open fire at Suleiman who then thrust his sword into the side of the hull where the glowing blade stabbed the American soldier in his manhood. Bullets slammed into the shield of Suleiman who quickly retracted his sword and he rushed to the next group of enemy soldiers.

With skill gained from nearly a century-worth of warfare, fighting the worst alien, mutant and daemonic monstrosities in the galaxy, the Governor Militant became a whirlwind of death as he continued to keep on killing the American soldiers who were simply mere men. He decapitated one American soldier with a single swing before shooting another twice in chest and he stabbed the driver of a third vehicle before killing its gunner with his sword. Wishing that he had his elite Javidan with him or a Baneblade to destroy these men, he knew well enough that he would just have to make do with what he had at the moment.

* * *

'Gah! My eyes!' shouted Karim as he covered the upper part of his face with his palms.

An American flash-bang grenade exploded almost too close to him and it left a retina searing whiteness along with a ringing in his ears. He heard the sounds of gunfire continue from where the old man went and little by little, the guns of the Americans fell silent. As soon as his vision cleared he saw one of his squad mates, Faisal lying face down with his blood pooling upon the sandy road.

Muttering a curse and hoping that his comrade would be accepted by Allah, he looked about to see who was still standing and to his relief, he saw the rest of his squad still alive. They heard the voices of the Americans panicking from what could only be the assault of the old man and a loud pained scream echoed through streets before being cut short. Cautiously looking towards the rest of his squad, Karim did not know what to do until he heard the accented voice of the old man call out 'over here men! I found us a ride!'

Again, the Rebels looked to one another with surprise and they cautiously advanced, passed the smoking remains of the first Humvee. To their collective surprise and perhaps even a bit of horror, Karim and the Rebel squad found that the alley had become an abattoir as dead American soldiers lay strewn about. Limbs and heads were severed as blood spattered ground and even inside, they saw that the crews of the Humvees were dead with great slash marks across the hull. They soon saw the old man waiting for them beside one Humvee at the back of the convoy and they cautiously advanced towards him.

Karim soon saw that the old man had stabbed the driver through the side window and had done the same to the gunner, both of whom were now dead and leaving the vehicle more or less intact.

'Do any of you know how to drive one of these?' asked the old man.

'Should not be too different from a Technical' shrugged Karim as he opened the side door and he pulled the dead American out from the driver seat. The rest of the Rebel Squad along with the old man piled in and after backing up the vehicle while running over the bodies of some of the dead Americans, the Squad then went out into the streets with their captured vehicle.

* * *

'Jesus H Fucking Christ!' swore General Carville as he watched the feed from the Scout Drones and he just could not believe what had just happened.

A single, seemingly elder;y Arabic man had just wiped out five squads of Rangers and had killed the drivers of the crews of the Humvees with a sword and a pistol that shot lasers. He had seen how the Rangers opened fire on the old man with their M249 SAWs and each bullet just slammed into a sphere of energy, some goddamned force field like out of a science fiction movie. Where the hell did these GLA bastards even get that!?

Quickly reassessing the situation, the General then ordered all of his troops within the city to reprioritize their targets. Using the spy satellites up in space, the General kept a watch on the progress of the hijacked humvee while sending out the coordinates to his men. Something at the back of his mind began to make him think that he would need to call in some additional help but immediately did he crush this idea for he was a damned General of the greatest country in the world.

All the General needed was the right tools and right equipment for the job, all things he had just waiting within the base.

* * *

Seated on the back of the passenger seat of the light vehicle, Suleiman looked out into the ruined street, the buildings of the city they were in only a minor resemblance to the architecture of Tallarn's cities. His Plasma Gun now lay upon his lap and the Governor Militant could not help but feel that there was something strongly amiss in his current situation. It felt more than just being marooned on some other planet, but it felt as if there was something, fundamentally different about this place which these GLA fellows claimed was Earth.

'Aha! I got it!' loudly said the GLA soldier who was seated in front of Suleiman and next to the driver. The man had busily been tinkering a communications device on the front of the vehicle and he finally managed to get something out of it.

'-o all remaining GLA forces in Mogadishu' spoke a voice from the comms unit whose accent was more akin to the men around Suleiman 'evacuate the city and head north to these coordinates.'

'Praise Allah' spoke one of the men and there was an air of relief as the speaker in radio began to give out a series of coordinates.

'We will regroup and from there, we will drive out the Imperialists! _Hurriya_!' then said the voice and the GLA soldiers repeated the last word before the sound of more gunfire rang out from behind them and bullets struck the vehicle.

'Americans pursuing us!' shouted Karim as he continued to drive 'someone get on that gun!'

Standing up from his seat, Suleiman quickly manned the Heavy Stubber and he prepared himself for another battle.


End file.
